Harvesting Sorrows

To decorate this ensemble, she will require
burnt twigs from a lonely byre,
paper uncoiled from a poisoned hornet’s nest.

Rags dripping with ammonia,
shards of bone, sprays of tears,
a bucket of rage to thrown on the fire.

Bandages ripped from corpses,
crushed bird skulls, garlands of
dark stars, stadiums of frowns.

Such grim sculpture must please her; they
immolate like monks aflame with gas
gasp like gimps choked on leather,
burning moths of bad moods, flailing.


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